


Echoes In The Void

by CinerealThinker (Darksinokaru)



Series: Alternative Fate [2]
Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Guts, Emotional Turmoil, Graphic Sex, Guts ended up not being a part of the eclipse, Heavy - Freeform, Longing, M/M, Post-Eclipse, Romance, Sequel, Smut, alternative exploration, handjobs, more tags to come, sex dreams... or not?, uke Guts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22415095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksinokaru/pseuds/CinerealThinker
Summary: Guts had finally confessed his love and his feelings had been returned, even if wordlessly from a broken Griffith. He was supposed to be happy. He was going to be happy. But in an instant, it was all gone. And all he had were unanswered questions. Will Griffith's miraculous return set everything right, or will he still only hear his own voice echoing back at him?(based on the premise of Guts never being involved with the eclipse and so is ignorant of what happened and Griffith returns for him)Griffith/Guts*Sequel to Incongruent Perception
Relationships: Griffith/Guts
Series: Alternative Fate [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613188
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96





	Echoes In The Void

**Author's Note:**

> Well! I wasn't sure I had it in me, but here I am writing something else! I plan this to be short, I'm going to tentatively list 3 chapters, but it could be more. It depends on what it takes to finish what I have in my head. I hope everyone enjoys reading! Smutty stuff in first chapter! I wonder if my rust is shaking off? *knocks on wood*
> 
> I do not own Berserk or any of its related materials.

They were gone. Everyone was gone. What happened? Who was responsible? He would make them pay! But no matter how far he walked, who he asked, young or old, wise or mysterious, he never found answers. It was appalling. Guts clearly remembered everything up to one specific moment. The life he had thought he could live, the happiness he had finally seized with his own two hands. He had attained the world when his feelings were returned even if no words could be spoken between them. And yet that morning Griffith's wagon suddenly lurched and charged forward down the hillside they were camped as if he were chasing something. It was the only thing that made sense, Griffith must have done it. Why or how would never be answered, at least, that was what Guts feared. Immediately he jumped on a horse to give chase, ignoring the confused and alarmed cries of the men around him. If he had listened, he might have heard something about the saddle. 

But his mind was consumed in its entirety in Griffith, he was the only one who truly earned the privilege of making Guts blind to all else. And yet, the saddle suddenly snapped to the side, that was the last thing Guts remembered. He didn't remember hitting the ground or the small boulder his head was reported to have struck. When he woke Rickert was at his side, sobbing and gasping his name. It was a miracle he hadn't broken his neck. And yet, dizzy and disoriented in his thoughts he had attempted to continue going forward, to where he had thought Griffith had gone. But he found nothing. Rickert's tale of some fantastic vortex of wind and darkness so profound it blocked the light of the sun was incomprehensible. If he were the type he would have believed Rickert to have somehow lost consciousness himself. But he believed the boy was fully awake and lucid. 

And so came his questions. What happened? Why? How? As soon as Guts was able to go about his days not assailed by headaches he left Rickert in the care of the blacksmith and set forth to try and find them. They had to be somewhere. People didn't just evaporate into thin air. They had to be somewhere, even if all they were was husks. Griffith had to be somewhere. And yet... as the months ticked by into years, a growing dread that had started in the pit of his stomach on the first day grew into a heavy weight that filled his body and weighted his steps. No matter where he went, what answers he tried to obtain, he never found any true answers. Only lonely nights pervaded by darkness and long days wearing at his legs; he walked, the questions echoing through his mind incessantly, obsessively. But never did he have an answer, just an echo into a void of nothingness that reverberated through his head nothing of use. No sightings, no mentions, not even a description that led to anything. He could not find anyone, not even Griffith. Surely a feebled man could be easily found and noticed, especially with his helmet. The idea of his beloved dead in a forest somewhere, rotted away because no one had been there to help him pierced into his psyche with cruel precision on far too many occasions, twisting his insides into painful knots. 

At some point, perhaps due to desperation, he began to chase down any and all supernatural stories or folktales he could. If there was anything he learned in his search, was that monsters were indeed real, Zodd was not the only creature to be feared. And yet even as he fought these beasts, tearing their limbs from them with the great might of his dragon-slaying sword, he only was taunted. As if they knew something he didn't. He would never find his answers, he would never find any of his comrades, he would never find his beloved. At least... not as he was before, as what one particularly putrid beast had tried to tell by way of talking in useless circles to confuse and frustrate him. It made Guts fear that something truly heinous could have been practiced upon Griffith. Some sort of idea of a great and mysterious evil descending upon the band and Griffith had formed in his mind, and he couldn't help but think that maybe... maybe he was wasting his time searching for bodies when he should have been digging graves. 

So close. Why did everything in his life have to be such shit? It was a cruel joke of cosmic proportions. His entire fucking life right from birth, wading through blood and shit just to live. Yet he had accepted it, he had gotten used to the smell and sight. But then a breath of fresh air and bright light like that of a coming dawn cleared away all that ugliness, making him promises that maybe... maybe he should have known could never come true. He was destined for shit, and to die in shit. Maybe it was all a fevered dream, a dream that deluded him into believing he had been uplifted, but in reality, he was still in the same place, living in the same filth. 

Two years. It was a sound kick to the gut to realize the anniversary. Two years since he had confessed his affections to Griffith, two years since they had coupled together, and two years since everything simply ceased to exist. It was disturbing, how little of a mark was left of their presence. Sure, Band of the Hawk garnered some recognition in some places, but most didn't even know, had never heard. It was like Griffith's radiance had never graced the world, that alone felt like a crime against nature. But perhaps, he was just too close to the sun and couldn't see the earth below. Two years of an empty world. And yet... there was something in the air tonight. Something that needled at Guts, clawing at him to pay attention. Like an electric shock that kept striking at the core of his being and tingling his flesh. He couldn't sleep, things even smelled strange. A tickle of at the base of his spine made his body feel restless. He needed to move, but to where? There was nowhere to go, and maybe even nothing to find. On his side by the campfire he had made, Guts watched the flames flicker and weave with the eerie, heavy air that weaved in with the breeze that particular night. No, he would not move. He had followed his feelings all over the fucking place, nearly ran himself into the ground, he even fought inhuman beasts of monstrous size, all because of his feelings. Why should he listen to his heart or anything else anymore? He would stay still, dammit. It was time he stopped chasing a delusion. He would return to Rickert, the least he could do was take care of the one last thing he had left, the last thing he cared about. 

The feeling of fingertips brushing over his arms, worming against buckles roused Guts as an odd tingling shudder worked across his skin. Confusion bloomed in his mind as his dark eyes cracked open, blurry and resistant to waking. The feeling of soft, cool lips pressing to his jaw drew forth a groggy moan as his hazy mind refused to quite register what the sensations meant. 

"Roll over, Guts," the soft roll of such a familiar voice waved any argument as Guts grunted and rolled onto his back while the pressure and weight of pieces of his protective gear began to fall away. 

"Griffith?" his words were mumbled, barely audible as his eyes struggled to lift against the cold chill of the morning air. But as his hazy mind focused on his pinprick vision the sight of unblemished snow-white skin framed by long curls of white hair greeted his vision. A soft sigh passed the swordsman's mouth as his gaze drifted down to the pair of beautiful blue eyes framed with long, thick lashes. As beautiful as a doll's, even the way they gleamed in the faint light. A soft smile pulled at those wondrous, full, shapely lips as the man hovering over him he now realized was bare from the shoulders up, leaned in and kissed the side of his mouth with those same lips. 

"Yes, love," was the whisper that tickled his mouth as long, thin fingers slid down his chest to his pubis where they curled against him before he felt the release of his belt. A shudder rippled down Guts' spin as heat bloomed in his groin with the swelling of his waking cock. "You've gotten much bigger," Griffith's whispery voice said as Guts' shirt was lifted up. Without thought the swordsman arched his back and lifted his arms, aiding in the removal of his shirt while the lithe man over him slid in between his legs, allowing their lower regions to meet briefly. There was something about those eyes, the way they stared down at him, static and fixated as Guts found his lips kissed again, cool breath fanning his lips Griffith's eyelids fluttered closed before a soft, pleased sound emitted from the back of the blonde's throat. A groan vibrated from the back of his own as his cock swelled further, tightening the groin of his pants while his hands, tingling from sleep's resistance to leave him lifted and settled into the softness of his beloved's hair. A hum came from the blonde as his hand slid down Guts' body once again, feeling out the network of muscles that shaped the swordsman before he palmed the man's cock, tearing an unexpected groan from his lover as Guts' hips jerked up against the teasing pressure. Griffith's tongue took greedy advantage of his partner's open mouth and plunged in, eagerly pushing and seeking to dominate's Guts' as he pushed and slid their slippery organs together. Another soft moan oozed from the back of Guts' throat as a pleasure induced buzz quickly began to erode anything a waking mind could have made use of. Without hesitance those long, talented fingers felt out the shape of Guts' cock through his breeches, massaging and rubbing against the bulge, drawing forth moans that broke into his mouth as the swordsman ground his hips up against that terribly teasing hand.

"G-God," Guts grunted when he pulled his face away, a delectable dust of red to his cheeks that the blonde eyed with a predatory gaze before he slipped his fingers up and then dipped inside the hot, tight confines of swordsman's garment. A gasp hit the back of Guts' throat as his hips lifted, remaining fixed as his toes curled against the bottom's of his shoes while the blonde wrapped his cool fingers around the swollen heat of his cock and gave a squeeze. 

"G-Griffith!" Guts gasped as the blonde's face left his swimming sight only for the sensation of lips and teeth to seal over a nipple. A low, long groan vibrated from deep in his chest as his back arched, seek more contact while small, hitching breaths escaped him. The blonde sucked and teethed the sensitive nipple in between his teeth, sending sharp little sparks of pleasure all throughout Guts' brain while Griffith's finger rubbed against the drooling slit of the prick in his grasp. 

"F-fuck!" Guts moaned, his voice breaking with increased volume while the blonde switched nipples. Using the building fluid escaping the swordsman's drooling cock the blonde began to slide his fist tightly down the rigid flesh in his hand, pausing every now again to massage the head. 

"Ah! Tease!" Guts gasped, powerful muscles flexing and trembling as his hands tightened into fists in the blonde's soft curls. All too soon, those sucking lips and teasing teeth disappeared and the blonde's head moved, weighted by the swordsman's arms as he came face to face with Guts once more. His hand stopped and he stared as the swordsman took a moment to focus on the angelic face above him. 

"Come back to me, Guts," he said, his voice as calm and soothing as it ever was. But that was only in appearance. Guts knew that voice too well, knew the man behind it. It wasn't a statement, it wasn't a suggestion, it was a command, an order. Just like when they had first met. A crooked smile curved his lips and a breathless laugh passed from the swordsman. 

"Is that an order?" he asked, striking at the memory of his first-ever assignment. There was a twitch, a subtle shift in the blonde's gaze as those penetrating eyes stared into his own, all-consuming. 

"Yes, It is," he said and Guts chuckled as he thrust his hips up against the smaller of the two again. 

"Well, I can't exactly say no to it then, can I?" Guts said, and that smile returned to the blonde's supple lips before he dove down and captured his lover's own. Once again that sneaky tongue slithered into his mouth, demanding and stubborn as it slipped and pressed against his own. In that same moment, the blonde's fist tightened around Guts' sensitive prick, drawing forth a shuddering moan as he began to slide his hand up and down, faster and faster. 

"Ah!" Guts' moan was muffled into the mouth swallowing his own as pleasure sparked and jolted through his cock and nervous system. Stronger, hotter, faster. Every muscle trembled with increasing tension, he was getting so fucking close. With each tight slid over his cock, faster, faster, closer, closer. A sudden and harsh surge of heat flooded Guts' body as a grunted moan caught in the back of his throat, cum shooting from the tip of his cock and covering the inside of his breeches as the hand that gripped him immediately began to massage the suddenly overly sensitive flesh. Small grunts hit the back of Guts' throat as little twitches worked through his body in response to the intentional over stimulation.

"G-" 

The blonde finally pulled his tongue from Guts' mouth and his hand stilled as he sat back, eyes fixated on the sight below him. Guts, sprawled on the ground, skin flushed and damp with sweat, his nipples red and rigid as his chest heaved deep with each intake of breath. His lips as well, red and swollen from the kisses, complimenting the still heavily glazed look in his eyes. As Guts lie on his back, trying to catch his breath, he realized then that Griffith was completely nude. Ah, but then again, what did he need clothes for? He'd only been summoned for this moment, for this scene to play out. The blonde crawled back up over Guts, those probing eyes never leaving his. 

"I'll see you soon," Griffith whispered, and then with one last, sweet kiss that lingered between their saliva sticky lips, the blonde pulled away and stood. Calming down, Guts remained still on his back, one hand moving to rest over his bare abdomen as he watched the blonde turn, the long curls of his hair weaving in the air as he walked into the darkness of the wood. He stared for a long moment, eyelids growing heavy.

Guts woke with a small uncomfortable twitch on his back. Realizing his muscles were stiff, he sat up with a groan and pulled his shoulders forward to stretch the irritated muscles. He froze however as his eyes drifted down his bare chest to his groin where he had felt his breeches peel off of him. Confusion bubbled up in his mind as he twisted and saw his shirt and protective armaments discarded to the side. He had most definitely gone to sleep with everything on. Against the tree right near him still rest his sword, his sack of belongings as well.

"The fuck?" He lifted his head and looked into the forest where Griffith had disappeared and felt his heart flip in his chest.


End file.
